


The Space Between

by bestpillowtalkever



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, IT guy Jughead, Smut, long distance, soulless corporate job Betty, terms of endearment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23721079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestpillowtalkever/pseuds/bestpillowtalkever
Summary: “You’ll have to call Jughead,” he told me with a sigh, giving up on trying to log me into the computer system.“What?” I asked.“Jughead. He’s our IT guy. Works out of the Manhattan office, but he can do most stuff remotely.OR: Betty ends falls in love with the IT guy on the phone.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 73
Kudos: 404
Collections: 7th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees, 7th Bughead Fanfiction Awards — Winners!, Riverdale Bingo Winter 2020





	The Space Between

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp. I started writing this story for my Bingo square before the article leaked. Took me a while to power through it because I was sad. Was going to go back and edit when I was feeling better about things, but... yeah.
> 
> Thank you to Trinnie for helping me write this story <3

“You’ll have to call Jughead,” he told me with a sigh, giving up on trying to log me into the computer system. 

“What?” I asked.

“Jughead. He’s our IT guy. Works out of the Manhattan office, but he can do most stuff remotely. I’ll email you his number,” my new boss told me as he started walking back towards his office. 

“I can’t check my email without logging into the computer,” I reminded him.

“Oh, right,” he said, seeming annoyed by the further inconvenience. “Come with me and I’ll write it down for you.

I procured the number and returned to my cubicle, wondering if things could get any worse. I didn’t want this job to begin with and it was turning out to be just as awful as I’d imagined it would be.

“Hi, uh… Jughead, is it?” I asked, feeling kind of awkward using his nickname.

“The one and only,” he drawled. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, this is my first day with the company and my login information doesn’t seem to be working,” I told him.

“Well, that’s an easy fix,” he said as I heard him typing in the background. “First name?”

“Elizabeth, with a Z.”

“Alright, Elizabeth with a Z, what’s your last name?”

“Cooper.”

“Elizabeth Cooper, starting in the Riverdale office today?” he said, apparently finding my information in the computer system. “Under Hiram Lodge, yikes. Good luck with that.”

“Yeah, it’s seeming like I’m going to need it,” I confessed. 

My boss had already been stressing me out. The vibe I got from my coworkers was that they were more competitive than collaborative, which wasn’t exactly welcoming for a newcomer. 

That was the nature of sales, I supposed. 

“Don’t worry about him. You’ll do great,” he assured me. 

I gave a short laugh. “How can you be so sure? You don’t even know me.”

“I’ve got a good feeling about you, Elizabeth with a Z,” he said kindly.

“You can call me Betty.”

—

“Okay, so when I’m running Excel, I can’t get Internet Explorer to work. I click on it and it opens, but then it closes again right away. I don’t have this problem when I try to use it with Word or any other programs, it’s just Excel,” I explained to him over the phone.

It was my third day and things were going… okay. My boss was still intimidating and I hadn’t really made any friends. The IT guy was nice, though. 

“Do you mean Microsoft Edge or Internet Explorer?” he asked.

“Uh…,” I checked my browser and confirmed, “Internet Explorer.”

“Question,” he said. 

“Yes,” I responded. 

“Why the hell are you using Internet Explorer?” 

I’m not sure if it was his tone or what, but I had to laugh out loud. 

“What’s wrong with Internet Explorer?” I asked. 

“What’s wrong with Internet Explorer? What’s wrong with Internet Explorer?” he exclaimed in mock outrage. “Betty, Internet Explorer is ancient. It has more data breaches than any other browser. It’s literally being phased out by Microsoft. The security is awful. They hardly make any extensions for it. I don’t even know if-”

“Okay! Okay,” I said, trying to put the brakes on his rant. “If it’s so terrible, why did the IT department install it on my computer, huh?” 

“I had nothing to do with it,” he defended. “The computers in your branch were set up before I started working here.”

“Okay, so what should I use? Chrome?” I asked.

“Oh, god, you can’t use Chrome!” he exclaimed. “Are you insane? Do you really want Google tracking your every move!?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” I said, trying not to laugh too loudly. “How ridiculous of me. What do you suggest I use, then?”

“Firefox, obviously,” he said. “I’ll send you the link to download it.”

“What would I do without you?” I said with a sigh, sounding more flirty than I’d been intending. 

“I shudder to think,” he said as I heard him typing. “Okay, you should have the link in your email. Do you need me to walk you through it? Or-“

“No,” I told him. “I’m not completely incompetent.”

“You’re not incompetent at all,” he said quickly. “I was just teasing, you know.”

“I know,” I told him before letting out a breath. I wished I had a reason to keep him on the phone. It was the most pleasant interaction I’d had all day. “Well, I guess that’s-“

“How’s work going for you?” he interrupted. “Hiram giving you a hard time?”

“Ugh, I had a meeting with him this morning that did not go very well,” I told him.

“What happened?” he asked.

We ended up talking for another forty minutes until he had to go to a meeting. 

—

“Betty, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re intentionally fucking up your computer for excuses to call me,” he said teasingly. 

Talk about calling me out. 

I hadn’t intentionally harmed my computer... yet. Though, admittedly I’d entertained the idea. 

There may have been a few instances where I could have googled the solution to my problem but opted to call instead. I managed to find an excuse to talk to him pretty much every day. 

In my defense, he was the only person who was nice to me at work.

My social life was also admittedly pretty lacking. 

“It’s not my fault they gave me this crappy old computer when I started!” I said defensively. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. That’s your problem right there. You must speak kindly to your machine if you expect him to perform. No wonder he’s acting up. Now, why don’t you apologize and we can start over.”

I looked around to make sure no one was walking by my cubicle because I was smiling like an idiot. 

“I’m sorry that I was so rude to the computer,” I said quietly. 

“No. Don’t apologize to me, apologize to him!” he chastised, sending me into a fit of giggles I was desperately trying to suppress. 

“Oh, my dear computer, I am so sorry for the horrible things I said and thought about you. I know that you’re trying your best and I promise to treat you with respect from here on out. I humbly beg your forgiveness for my transgressions,” I whispered dramatically into the phone.

“Okay, Betty, that is just really weird to talk to your computer like that and I-“

“Oh, shut up,” I say, trying and failing to stop my laughter.

“Are you on a personal call?” came an icy voice from behind me.

“What? No. I mean, yes,” I said, quickly realizing that I didn’t want Jughead to get in trouble. “It was just my sister-“

“I don’t care who it was. No personal calls on company time. I’m going to have to write you up for this, Miss Cooper.”

“Sorry, Mr. Lodge,” I said with flaming cheeks as I hung up the phone.

I hated getting in trouble. I really, really hated it. It left my stomach in knots and my skin crawling with shame. 

I tried to get back to work, but couldn’t shake the feeling.

My phone rang and Jughead’s number popped up.

“I’m sorry,” I answered with a sigh. “My boss.”

“Why didn’t you just tell him you were on the phone with me?” he asked. 

“I didn’t want you to get in trouble,” I told him.

He snorted a laugh. “He's a regional manager. He can’t get me in trouble. He’s not my boss.”

“Yeah, but he could report you to your boss,” I reminded him.

“My boss loves me,” he said, sounding a little cocky. “And he hates Hiram. Trust me, you don’t have to worry about that. You can always use me as an excuse.”

“Okay,” I said, grateful that he couldn’t see my blush. 

“So, what was your problem you needed me to fix?”

“I…,” I started before letting out a quiet laugh. “Okay, I don’t actually remember.”

—

The phone rang and my stomach turned. I hated my job. I hated everything about it. 

I looked at the screen and recognized Jughead’s number.

Okay, maybe I didn’t hate everything about it.

It was his first time calling me out of the blue and I couldn’t think of any reason that he would need to?

“Hello?” I answered cautiously, forgoing my formal work greeting.

“I’ve got a question for you,” he asked in a tone that suggested the question was no way work related.

“Well, I hope that I have an acceptable answer,” I responded.

“I hope you do as well,” he said. “Do you like Tarantino movies?”

Oh god. Was this one of those guy things where he was going to quiz me about a topic so that he could smugly show off how much more he knows?

“Uh… I mean, yeah, I like his movies. I’ve seen the Kill Bills and Pulp Fiction. I haven’t seen Once Upon a Time in Hollywood yet, but I really want to,” I said, hoping this was the response he was looking for.

“Thank you,” he said emphatically. “Last night I was hanging out with my best friend, Archie, and this girl he’s hooking up with and when we were trying to pick a movie, she said that girls don’t like Tarantino. And I was like, are you kidding me? How can you claim that all girls collectively don’t like Tarantino? I understand if she doesn’t like Tarantino. It’s the wrong opinion, but she's entitled to have it. But, to claim that no girls like Tarantino just because she doesn’t… It was a bit much for me. I just needed some confirmation that she was being ridiculous. So, thank you. I knew you had good taste.”

I smiled, since it was pretty sweet that he called me to strike up a conversation. I quickly tried to think of something to ask next to keep it going. 

“So, uh… what’s your favorite Tarantino movie?” I asked.

“Well, Betts, let me take you back to the year of 1992…”

—

“What can I do for you, baby?” he answered the phone in a sultry voice.

The pet names had started as a joke after he told me that one of his coworkers said he was always on the phone with his “work wife”. I jokingly called him honey, he responded by calling me sweetheart and it quickly became a thing. 

It didn’t help my crush one bit.

“Hello, Mr. Svenson,” I responded. “This is Elizabeth Cooper with Sweetwater Life Insurance and-” I turned to look around and make sure the coast was clear. “Sorry, Hiram was walking over and I needed to look busy.”

“Is he still on your case?” he asked, sounding annoyed on my behalf.

“I can’t really blame him,” I admitted. “I am the lowest performing salesperson in the office.”

“You’re also the newest one! He needs to cut you some slack,” he said in my defense.

“Jug, I am self aware enough to know that I am really shitty at sales. This isn’t exactly my thing.”

“Then, why are you doing it?” he asked.

I sighed and told him, “Honestly? Because my mom thinks it’s my best option around here and she’s kind of pushy about things.”

The line went quiet for a moment before he asked, “Aren’t you, like, twenty three?”

“Yeah?” I responded. 

I wondered how he knew my age before remembering that he had access to my file of personal information. It didn’t seem like the type of thing he was supposed to be looking into, but I didn’t call him out on it.

“Well, you’re an adult. Why does your mom get to tell you what to do?” he asked gently. 

“I still live at home,” I admitted, feeling a little embarrassed about it. “I have an English degree and no real idea what to do with it. My mom was living alone at our house, so I moved back in. I was just waitressing at our local diner till this job. She kind of bullied me into applying since I’m able to make a lot more money with commission. Except, I’m not actually able to make any money because I suck at sales.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he said. “And I mean that as a compliment.”

I gave a quiet laugh, not wanting to attract the attention of my boss. “Well, thanks.”

“You should look for jobs in the city,”  
he said. 

I’d gotten pretty good at deciphering his tones and inflections, and I couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t saying it lightly.

“Yeah?” I asked, biting my bottom lip. 

I’d never really left home, choosing to attend the college closest to Riverdale. The idea of moving to the city was exciting, but mostly intimidating and terrifying 

“Yeah. We can find you something here,” he said confidently. “I’m sure anything is better than your current job.”

“It’s not so bad,” I said with a smile.

“Why’s that?” he asked in a way that suggested he already knew the answer. 

“Oh, I just have this really great work husband,” I told him.

“Really?” he asked, feigning surprise. “What’s so great about him?”

I felt myself blush as I tried to think of how to respond in a way that wasn’t creepy. “He’s just… really fun to talk to. Some days the only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning is that I’m looking forward to his calls.”

He didn’t respond and I immediately started panicking that my comment totally freaked him out. 

“I’m sorry. Was that too much? I just-“

“No,” he said, cutting me off. “But… you should really think about moving to the city.”

—

I was laying on my bed, playing hooky and contemplating the meaning of life.

What was I even doing? Going to the same miserable job every day for the rest of my life? It wasn’t fulfilling. My life outside of work wasn’t even fulfilling. All of my friends had moved to bigger and better places. I felt like I was just… trapped.

The only thing that was bringing me an ounce of joy these days was talking to the IT guy at my work. And, I hadn’t even met him in person! I didn’t even know what he looked like. I had this big, stupid crush and he could have been rocking a goatee and fedora for all I knew. 

My phone vibrated and an unknown number popped up. I dropped it back to the bed and let it go to voicemail.

I checked it a minute later.

“Hey, Betty, it’s me. Uh, Jughead. I’m assuming you can recognize my voice at this point.”

I smiled at the ceiling as I listened to him. God, how did he sound so stupidly hot?

“So, I, uh… called you at work but you didn’t answer. And then I called you again and you still didn’t answer. And, I know you’re probably just taking the day off and I’m, like, interrupting you meeting up with a friend or something. And I probably seem like a huge creep because I looked up your personal number. 

“But, I was just thinking, what kind of work husband would I be if I didn’t check on you, you know? Like, I don’t know, I’m hoping you didn’t get into an accident on your way to work or that you’re really sick or something.

“I’m also hoping I didn’t say anything yesterday that may have greatly offended you and now you’re ignoring me. Was it that joke about PETA? Because, I swear I really do care about animals. I was just kidding.

“Anyway, I’m just calling to make sure that you’re okay. I have to admit, my day is pretty boring without you. So, I guess just call me or text me so I know you’re alive. I’ll just be sitting here imagining the worst case scenario till then. Uh, talk to you later. Hopefully. Bye.”

I held the phone to my chest and truly could not stop smiling. His adorable nervous rambling was just making my heart swell. It was really ridiculous how much this faceless man affected me.

I saved his number in my phone and quickly called him back.

“Babe,” he answered, sounding relieved. “Where are you?”

“Sorry, darling. I’m at home. Just taking a mental health day,” I explained. 

“Everything alright?” he asked, sounding concerned. 

“No, yeah, everything’s fine. Just your average existential crisis,” I joked. 

“Okay,” he said, still sounding unsure. “You’re not going to… do anything, are you?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to figure out what he was implying. “Oh, no, I’m not suicidal or anything. Just… really, really didn’t want to go to work today.”

“Oof. Not even I could tempt you to come?” he asked.

“Don’t take it personally,” I assured him. “I was missing you, too.”

“Oh, Betts, you’re making me blush,” he said, sounding genuinely pleased. 

I laughed and tried to think of what to say next, but was drawing a blank. Luckily, he kept the conversation going.

“So, what is my beautiful work wife doing on her big day off?” he asked.

“Currently, laying on the bed and staring at the ceiling,” I told him.

“No! You can’t waste your precious hours of freedom. Go do something fun,” he demanded.

“This is Riverdale. There’s nothing fun. Trust me,” I said honestly. 

“Hm… why don’t you go to the movies? Or go out to eat? Or-“

“Ooh, I could go for a run,” I interjected. Running usually helped calm my thoughts on bad days. 

“Oh… yeah, or that. I’m sure that would be a blast,” he said flatly. 

“I enjoy running, I’ll have you know,” I told him.

“Well, then of course I support you. Happy wife, happy life and all that.”

“Mm, I like the sound of that,” I said.

I heard muffled talking from his end before he said, “Sorry, love, I gotta go. Duty calls. Text me if you need anything, okay? Enjoy your day off. Please do something fun that’s a little more indulgent than running.”

“Will do, sweetheart. I’ll have dinner ready at six,” I joked.

“You spoil me, babe. Talk to you later,” he said.

“Bye,” I responded before our call ended. 

Feeling a lot lighter, I got changed and went for a run. I ran through the town and along the river and I was half dead by the time I got home. 

Marching up my porch steps with a stitch in my side, I spotted a long cardboard box by the door. I was surprised to find that it was addressed to me. 

I brought it in and set it on the kitchen counter, using a knife to cut the box open. There were a dozen red roses and a note that read:

For my darling wife.  
Hope these flowers make your day a little brighter. 

I shook my head with a smile. He was just too much. 

As I was about to call him, I thought of a better idea. I put the flowers in water and ran them up to my room. 

After jumping in the shower, I blow dried my hair, added a little curl with my curling iron. and put on some light makeup. 

I went back into my room, trying to find the best light for a selfie by the window. I held the roses so that they were partially obscuring the bottom of my face and took a picture. Then another one. Then, another and another and another at all different angles and flower placement and types of smiles until I finally landed on one that would just have to do. 

I sent it off with a text that simply said, Thank you.

I set the phone on my vanity and tried to do something, anything, to distract me as I awaited his response. 

After what felt like several years, I heard it vibrate and lunged to pick it up. It wasn’t a text. He was calling me. 

I took a few breaths and tried to calm down so I didn’t sound like a total spaz.

“Hello?” I answered more shyly than I typically did when he called.

“Betty, I…” he trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words for the first time since I’d known him. 

“What?” I asked, feeling incredibly anxious. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said seriously. “I mean, I already knew you were beautiful and you’re a beautiful person regardless of what your face looks like, but your face is really beautiful.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Thank you. For the flowers and for saying that. You’re really sweet, Jughead, and I’m really glad that you’re my…”

I was about to say friend, but that seemed so limp and lame compared to how much I felt for him.

“Work husband?” he supplied.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “My work husband.”

“Well, I hope you’re not completely disappointed when you see me for the first time, because I must tell you that you definitely married down,” he said, half kidding and half not.

“Let me be the judge of that,” I told him. “You’re also a beautiful person. I don’t care what your face looks like.”

“That's reassuring. I mean not that it really matters or anything, since we’re just…”

“Yeah, no, of course,” I said, not really wanting him to figure out how he was going to end that sentence. “I actually have to go, Jug. I just heard my mom come in and she’ll want to nag me for not having dinner started.”

“Oh, okay. Well, have a good night, Betty. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he said.

Betty. 

Not babe or baby or sweetheart. 

Just Betty.

Did I fuck everything up with my face?!

—

It turned out that I didn’t fuck everything up with my face, because things seemed to go back to normal the next day. We started chatting on our lunch break and made it all the way to my afternoon meeting with the sales team. 

All in all, it wasn’t the worst day at work. Unfortunately, my mother ambushed me as soon as I walked in the door at home.

“Elizabeth,” she said. “What is the meaning of this?” She was brandishing the notecard from the roses Jughead had sent me.

“Why were you in my room?” I asked, plucking it from her hand. “I’m not a kid anymore, you can’t just go in there without my permission.”

“I was vacuuming, I’ll have you know!” she said defensively.

“I don’t need you to vacuum, mom!” I exclaimed. “I clean, I vacuum, I do my own laundry, I pay you rent. It is my space and there’s no reason for you to be going in there.”

“You’re deflecting, Elizabeth. Why, in heaven’s name, is someone sending you roses and addressing you as their wife? What is that? Who is that from? What is the meaning of this?” she asked. 

“It’s none of your business!” I said, brushing past her to go up the stairs 

“I think it is my business if I have a son-in-law that’s being hidden from me!” she said as she followed me. “You can be honest. Was it a Green Card marriage?”

“What? No, mom,” I said, turning in my doorway to keep her from entering my room. “It’s just a joke with a coworker. Please calm down. I am not married.”

“Those are pretty expensive flowers to receive as a joke, Elizabeth,” she said with raised eyebrows.

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, mom. I was having a bad day and a friend from work sent me flowers. That’s all there is to it.”

She studied my face for a moment and seemed satisfied with what she found. “He likes you as more than a friend, Elizabeth,” she said as she walked away.

“What?” I asked.

“You heard me!” she called back as she went back down the stairs.

God, I needed to move out.

—

Later that week, I found myself calling Jughead in a panic.

“Yes, love?” he answered.

“Ohmygod, I need your help,” I told him.

“What is it? Are you okay?” he asked quickly. “Do I need to call 911?”

“No, it’s a computer problem!” I told him.

“Wow. I can’t remember the last time you actually called me with a computer problem,” he said, sounding less concerned. 

“Okay, so I was supposed to turn in this report this morning, but I totally forgot about it, and I just finished it and I hit print and it’s not printing and my computer is frozen and I don’t even remember if I saved it, so I can’t reboot it and-“

“Betty, Betty, Betty,” he said, trying to interrupt me. “Breathe. It’s okay. It’s just a report. We will fix it.”

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself.

“Did you try control, alt, delete?”

“Of course I tried control, alt, delete.” I snapped.

“Okay, okay. Just asking. Try hitting escape twice.”

“Nothing,” I said after trying it.

“Okay, go walk over to the fax machine, then the water cooler, then back around to your desk,” he told me.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because sometimes it just starts working after a minute. Also, you need to walk off your nerves,” he said.

“That’s your brilliant solution? Can’t you, like, fix it remotely?” I asked desperately.

“Not if it’s frozen,” he said, sounding genuinely disappointed that he couldn’t do more to help. “I’m serious, go take a walk. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

“Fine,” I said, getting up to do a quick loop around the office. 

It didn’t really matter anyway, I supposed. It’s not like I even liked my job. But, actually getting fired was more than I could handle. 

“Okay, I’m back,” I told him, as I sat back down in my seat. 

“That was too quick. Did you sprint? I think you need another lap,” he said. 

“Jughead,” I said, not in the mood for his teasing. 

“Okay, okay. Try control, alt, delete again,” he told me.

I did and the box popped up. “It worked!” I exclaimed. “But it says that Excel’s not responding. I’m still going to lose my report,” I finished with a whine.

“Go into your files. See if you already saved it,” he said. 

“Oh! Yes. Good thinking, babe,” I said, going in to look through my folders. “Yes!” I exclaimed as I found the file. “Got it.”

“Perfect. Just reboot it and try printing again.”

“What would I do without you?” I said as I sighed contently. 

“I didn’t even do anything,” he said modestly. 

“Hey, Betty?” came a voice behind me.

“Hold on one second, Jug,” I said into the phone before turning to find one of my coworkers. “Hi, Trev, what’s up?”

“Oh, I just wanted to know if you wanted to go grab lunch at Pop’s today?” he asked a little nervously.

“Yeah, sure! I’m free at one,” I told him. 

“Alright, it’s a date,” he said before walking away. 

“Sorry about that,” I said to Jughead.

“A date, huh?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s not a date date,” I said quickly. 

...Right? I’d just taken it in the platonic sense. Not like a romantic date. 

“He just said, ‘It’s a date,’” he said, sounding a bit put off.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he seemed a little jealous.

I hated how much I loved it. 

“What kind of girl do you think I am, Jug? You really think I’d cheat on my work husband? We took sacred vows. For better or worse until one of us quits or gets fired,” I assured him.

“Oh, the vows, How could I have forgotten?” he said, sounding more like himself. 

“I’m just looking forward to not eating lunch alone at my desk again,” I admitted. I’d been working there for weeks and hadn’t made a single friend. Well, other than Jughead, obviously. 

After a brief pause, he said, “You know, if you’re ever looking for social interaction, you’re more than welcome to come visit in the city.”

“I may have to take you up on that some time,” I said with my heart already racing at the thought.

“You really should.”

—

I’d searched for him everywhere. Instagram. Facebook. Tumblr. He either did not have any social media, or he went under a different name. I knew his real name from his work email, which led me to his Linkdn profile, which had exactly zero pictures.

What did he look like?? I tried to get him to send me a selfie, since I’d sent him mine, but he claimed to have an antique flip phone with a broken camera. 

It was torture. Even though I knew it didn’t matter what he looked like, I couldn’t help but feel like I was going to be thrown off by seeing him for the first time. I’d honestly wondered if it would be better to never meet in person, so we could just keep things the way they were.

But, the idea of visiting him in the city was tempting. As I laid in bed watching Netflix on my laptop alone on a Saturday night, I wondered if it wouldn’t be better to just bite the bullet and plan a trip down there. It was only a few hours away. 

As I started looking into train schedules, I got a call from him. After the first time he called me at home, it wasn’t unusual for us to talk or text outside of work hours. 

After midnight on a Saturday was a little late for him, though.

“Yes, dear?” I answered.

“Elizabeth Cooper!” he yelled into the phone. There was noise in the background like he was at a bar or party. “You’re so pretty!”

“Are you drunk?” I asked, kind of delighted. For some reason it seemed really funny and out of character for him to be drunk at a party.

“It’s Archie’s birthday!” he said, referencing his best friend who he’d told me about before. “We’re at a bar and he keeps trying to get me to pick up girls! But, I don’t want to!”

“Why not?” I asked with a big smile.

“Because I only want to kiss you! You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen and I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!” he shouted into the phone. 

I laughed at his drunken declaration as I could hear him talking to someone on the other end. “Sorry, Archie says that I can’t just say that to girls, but GUESS WHAT, ARCHIE? She’s not just a girl! She’s my WIFE!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Drunk Jughead was too much.

“What did you say?!” he asked over the noise. “I can’t hear you!”

“I didn’t say anything!” I told him. 

“WHAT?! I’m going outside so I can hear you!” he said. 

After a few moments, the background noise lowered dramatically. “Okay, what were you saying?” he asked.

“Are you having fun?” I asked.

“I guess,” he said, still talking very loudly. “I kind of hate going out. Usually, I’m just stuck entertaining the friend of whoever Archie’s trying to hook up with. Now that he’s got a girlfriend, he keeps trying to find girls for me. But, I don’t want any of these girls!”

“And, why is that?” I asked, figuring I already knew what his answer would be.

“Because they’re not you! You’re the best girl there is, Betty. I wish you were here! But, then you might not be here because there’s like a million guys in the city and most of them are better than me,” he said.

“If I were there, I would definitely be there, Jug. I really like you, too, you know.” It was much easier to admit these things when he wouldn’t remember it in the morning.

“You’ve never even met me! It’s fun having you as a work wife, but you’d never date me in real life,” he said with conviction.

“Jughead, I would be so lucky if I got to date you in real life,” I told him honestly.

“Hold on a minute, babe,” he said before talking to someone on the other end. “Okay, we’re all heading out. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay. Get home safe, dear,” I told him. 

“Goodbye and good night, my love!” he said dramatically before I heard someone in the background say, “Okay, you’re done,” before hanging up his phone. 

I loved what we had. I loved our little thing so much. Meeting him in person would either be the best or worst decision.

Sooner or later I was going to find out which it was.

—

“...so, then my sister tells me that she won’t watch The X-Files because ‘It’s a boring old nineties show.’ And I was like, Jellybean, it’s a classic! You love paranormal, sci-fi stuff. It’s like she’s determined to hate anything I recommend to her because I am her lame older brother and what are you eating? It sounds amazing.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked before swallowing my bite. “How can food sound amazing?”

“I don’t know, it just does. What is it? You never eat in the morning,” he noted. 

“Well, I was just kind of in a bad mood since it’s Monday and my mom made a comment about my weight, so I decided to get a greasy breakfast sandwich from Pop’s just to spite her.”

“What’s on it?” he asked. 

“Bacon egg, and cheese on a bagel with ketchup,” I told him. 

“Oh, that sounds amazing,” he gushed. “I was running late this morning and didn’t eat anything.”

“I’m not gonna lie, it’s really good. Pop’s is this little local diner, but I swear they have the best food. Their burgers and shakes are perfection. Seriously, they are so good,” I said. 

After a few beats of silence, he asked tentatively, “Betty… can you do me a favor?” 

“Uh, yeah? Sure. What is it?” I asked. 

“You have an external hard drive, right?” he asked.

“Yes?” I responded. 

“Okay, make sure all of your files are backed up on there, okay? I’m about to send you an email. Once you have everything on the external, I want you to download that file onto your computer. Okay?” he asked.

“Uh… yeah, okay,” I told him.

“Alright, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, babe,” he said before abruptly hanging up. 

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for my entire computer to have a meltdown. All these weird error messages popped up. I tried rebooting it, but it still wasn’t working. I called Jughead who cryptically told me that he’d take care of it and to use a spare laptop in the meantime. 

He was MIA for a while, so I decided I should actually try to get some work done. It was the worst. 

A few hours later, while I was drafting an email to a client I heard a quiet, “Hey,” from behind me. 

I turned around to find an unfairly attractive man with dark hair at the entrance to my cube. He had on a pale blue dress shirt with rolled up sleeves and fitted black pants that looked more like jeans than slacks. 

“Can I help you?” I asked, figuring he was probably looking for someone else. 

“Oh, uh… it’s me. I’m here to fix your computer.”

Oh. 

Oh.

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and looked like he was about to throw up. 

I felt like I was about to throw up. 

That’s him?! He looked nothing like I’d imagined him. I stared for a long minute trying to force my brain to merge “disembodied voice Jughead” with this physical version of him 

“Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have sprung this on you,” he said quietly.

“No! No. It’s okay. I’m just… processing,” I told him. 

“Jughead, glad you could make it down here,” Hiram said, coming up behind him. “Betty, why don’t you set up in the conference room and let him do his job.”

“Yes, of course,” I said, gathering my things as he went back to his office. 

As I moved to let Jughead take my seat, he put his hand on my waist and said lowly in my ear, “This might take a while. Would you mind waiting for me? I’d love to take you out to dinner.”

“Of course,” I said breathlessly before pulling back to look at him. “Did you come all this way because I was talking about Pop’s this morning?”

He gave a surprised laugh. “It may have been the final straw. But, I’ve been thinking about doing this for a while now, darling.”

I bit my bottom lip and internally died. How was this real life? He totally exceeded my expectations in every way. 

“Well, I’d better get to work,” I told him, too nervous to come up with anything witty to say. His hand fell and he let me walk past him. 

I turned to look at him one last time and found him watching me as well. Our eyes met and we both gave bashful smiles before turning away. 

I set up a workspace on the conference room table, but how was I supposed to get anything done?? My adrenaline was pumping and my skin felt all tingly and I had butterflies in my stomach. 

God, I wished I’d worn my hair down. At least the blue dress I was wearing was one of my favorites. 

I checked my phone and saw that he’d texted: I definitely married up. 

I smiled and responded: Abjectly false. If anyone married up, it’s me. 

I stared at the dots on my screen until he responded: You don’t have to flatter me, Betts. I’m already going on a date with you. 

A date date??, I asked, feeling pretty hopeful about his answer.

He sent back: God, I hope so. 

I laughed to myself and sent: Stop flirting and fix my computer so we can get out of here. 

Yes, dear, he sent in reply. 

It’s a good thing I’d been productive in the morning, because I did basically nothing all afternoon. I alternated between staring at my computer, my phone, and the clock. 

Around five, people started trickling out of the office as I anxiously waited for any sign of Jughead. Finally, he texted: Almost done if you wanna come put your stuff away and we can head out. 

I flew from my chair, slamming my laptop shut and gathering my things to head back to my cube. 

“How’s it going?” I asked him, trying to sound a lot more casual than I felt. 

He turned to look at me with a soft smile. “Oh, um, it’s going well. Just finished reinstalling all your programs.”

I bent over to put my things in my drawers before whispering in his ear, “I can’t believe you sabotaged my computer for an excuse to come all the way up here.”

He turned to me with a delighted look on his face and gave a slow wink. 

God, I was done for.

We decided to drive separately, so there wouldn’t be any awkward questions about his car being left in the parking lot. I was so on edge, I couldn’t even listen to music as I drove to Pop’s. 

This was it. It was either the end or the beginning. 

I really hoped it wasn’t the end.

We parked and he held the door open for me as we went into Pop’s and it was all pretty surreal. He was here. This was him. 

He was hot.

I led him to a booth and he sat across from me. There were curious glances from everyone else in the diner, as it wasn’t too often that we had newcomers. Especially on a date with me. 

We looked at each other for a moment before he said, “We’re going to be the talk of the town, aren’t we?”

“Oh, yeah,” I said with a laugh. 

Our knees bumped beneath the table and he quickly apologized.

“It’s okay,” I said, intentionally moving my leg closer to his.

“You kids know what you want or do you need menus?” the waitress asked without greeting, looking between the two of us.

“Uh… I think I’m just gonna go with a burger and shake since it was so effectively advertised to me this morning,” Jughead said to her.

“Flavor?” she asked flatly.

He looked at me with questioning eyes. “They’re all good,” I told him with a shrug.

“Chocolate, please,” he said.

“I’ll have the same, but make mine strawberry,” I told her. 

“You got it,” she said, before leaving us alone to sit in our thick, awkward sexual tension.

He cleared his throat. “So, how was work today?” he asked, sounding about as nervous as I felt.

“Better than usual, actually,” I told him with a little smile.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” he asked, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table. His forearms were so hot. How could someone’s forearms be so hot??

“Oh, you know. Someone came to visit and it made my day,” I told him. 

“Is that right? Must be someone really cool if it made your day,” he said before making a face that suggested he regretted saying it.

“Oh, he is,” I assured him, before biting my lip and trying to think of what to say next.

After a beat of silence, he said, “I have to tell you, I don’t really do this kind of thing very often.”

“You mean you don’t have work wives in the other offices?” I teased. 

He gave a smile and said, “No, I am strictly monogamous when it comes to my work marriage.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” I said.

“And, I mean, outside of work as well, I guess I should clarify,” he quickly added. “But, what I meant was, I don’t really go on dates often. Or ever,” he admitted, seeming a little embarrassed about it.

“That’s kind of surprising,” I said. “You’re quite the romantic.”

He really laughed at that.

“You are the first person to ever say that. Or even think it, probably. I might actually have to record you saying that to send to Archie,” he said. 

“I don’t know why that’s so surprising to you,” I told him. “You sent me roses. You surprised me at work. You call me baby-“

“Okay, I see your point,” he conceded. “I guess it’s just easier to do all of that when the girl is several hours away and I can play it off as a joke.”

“Was it all a joke?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light.

He looked at me with wide eyes as if totally thrown off and unsure of what to say. “It... it may have started more joking than it ended up being.”

“When did it change?” I asked, wanting to get as much information out of him as I could while we were on the topic

“Um…” He looked up and scratched the back of his neck letting out a breath. “You’re really going to put me on the spot here, aren’t you?”

I laughed and said. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

But, I really wanted him to.

He leveled his gaze at me and said, “That time you gave that really heartfelt apology to your computer.”

“That’s what did it for you? That was, like, my first or second week of work,” I reminded him.

He looked down at the table with a little smile.“I know.”

We were interrupted by the arrival of our food, which was unfortunate because I was really into that particular conversation.

It was going great, right?! There was some awkwardness as was to be expected, but on the whole it seemed to be going really well.

As we started eating, he gushed for a while about how amazing the food was.

When there was another lull in conversation, he asked, “So, uh… when did it change for you?” 

“What do you mean?” I asked, wanting to make sure we were talking about the same thing.

“I mean… I guess I was just assuming maybe at some point it became less of a joke for you, too? Or, maybe it didn’t and that’s fine, too, I just-“

“No! Of course it did,” I assured him. “Um… probably that day that I didn’t come into work and you left me that voicemail. It was really sweet.”

He blushed which was a very cute look on him. “I was just worried about you,” he said dismissively.

“Exactly,” I said. “You’re always looking out for me and helping me and trying to convince me that I need to dream bigger than this little town.”

“No,” he said quickly. “If this little town is what you want and it makes you happy, then there’s nothing wrong with that. I don’t want you to think…. There’s nothing wrong with this life if it’s what you want. I mean, I grew up in a city and then I moved to a bigger city, so I’ve never really done the whole small town thing, but if that’s what you want, then I can….”

“You have no idea how much I’d love to get out of here,” I told him.

“Oh, thank god,” he said, sounding relieved.

I laughed and he asked, “If you want to leave so much, why haven’t you just done it yet?”

“You say that like it’s easy! I need a job, I need a place to live, I need help moving. It’s just a lot of stuff to figure out and do and my mom will be totally opposed and unhelpful,” I told him. “And it’s just… too risky.”

“Which is a scarier thought?” he asked. “Moving to the city and it being a terrible mistake, or staying here forever and spending the rest of your life wishing you would have tried?”

I took a deep breath, knowing the answer was obvious. 

“I’m just saying,” he continued, “what’s the worst that could happen? If it doesn’t work out, then you just come back home. It’s not life or death here.”

I nodded. “You’re making some pretty good arguments.”

“I know I am,” he said smugly, popping a fry into his mouth. “And you know I’ll help you out. Finding a job and a place to live and moving. I can help with all of that if you want me to.”

“Yeah?” I asked hopefully. 

“Of course,” he said with a nod. 

The conversation was much more relaxed after that. We talked about Riverdale and our childhoods and our families until our food was gone and the waitress cleared our plates. 

We argued over who was going to pay. I told him I’d get this one and that he could pay when I came to visit him in the city and he seemed pleased with that arrangement. 

We drove around town and I showed him my high school and my elementary school and where I learned to ride a bike and the park where I broke my arm. He asked me lots of questions and seemed genuinely interested in my answers. 

It was like all of the hours we’d spent talking on the phone, except better because he was here and I could reach over to touch him if I wanted to (except I didn’t because I was still too nervous).

I brought him back to his car, or more specifically the company car he’d driven up from the city, and I was absolutely dreading our goodbye. I tried to stall. Think of somewhere else to bring him. But, it was getting late and he still had to drive all the way back home.

I parked and we sat in silence for a moment. 

“How long will it take you to get back?” I asked. 

“Oh, right now? About two and a half hours since there’s no traffic,” he said. “But, um, I was thinking… I know there’s a motel in Centerville I stayed at the last time I was here for work. I could just spend the night there and drive back down in the morning.”

“Yeah,” I said too quickly. “I’d hate for you to be driving in the dark this late.”

“It would be terribly irresponsible,” Jughead said with the corners of his lips curling into a smile. 

“Exactly. You’d better stay,” I told him.

“I’d better stay,” he repeated. “And, I mean, we’re having such a good time, I’d hate to not take full advantage of this rare opportunity we have to hang out.”

“Absolutely,” I said, nodding and trying not to smile. “We should definitely maximize our time together.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he said, moving his hand to the door handle. “So, I actually need to stop by the drugstore for… a toothbrush, so I’ll just meet you at the motel?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” I said, nodding. 

“Okay, see you later, babe.” He looked at me for a brief moment before kissing my cheek and climbing out of the car before I could even react.

I touched the spot on my skin and smiled. 

He was getting condoms, right?!

I wasn’t exactly sure where the motel was, so I looked it up on my GPS to find the intersection. As I drove, I called my mom to tell her that I was spending the night at Kevin’s because he was visiting his parents.

I parked by the entrance and waited for him. I should have asked him to grab me a toothbrush as well. I probably had cheeseburger breath. I found a piece of spearmint gum in my purse and figured it was better than nothing. 

He arrived a few minutes later and I got out of my car to walk in with him. He grabbed my hand and laced our fingers together. It was so simple and sweet and made my heart swell. 

As we marched up to the front desk, it dawned on me that I was checking into a sketchy hotel to (hopefully) have sex with a guy I’d just met (in person) that day. 

It was very out of character for me, but for some reason I wasn’t even freaking out. I looked over at him and I just felt… weirdly calm. 

He squeezed my hand and gave a wink. 

I’d never been more gone for someone before in my life.

“Can we get a room for the night?” he asked the woman behind the desk. “I mean, me. I. Can I get a room for the night?” he awkwardly corrected with a blush. 

I squeezed his hand and bit back a smile.

“Uh huh,” she said, looking between the two of us with knowing eyes. “You’ll only need one bed, then?” 

“Uh… yep. One will be fine,” he said, handing over his credit card. “Since it’ll just be me sleeping there.”

“Mhm,” she responded with raised eyebrows as she took his card.

When the transaction was complete, he took the room key and led me to the elevator. As we waited for its arrival he said, “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to imply anything. I hope you don’t think-“

“Jughead, it’s okay,” I told him. “I don’t mind the implication.” I said it lightly and kept my eyes focused on the opening elevator door.

He pulled me in and turned to face me. “Really?” he asked, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Really,” I told him with a nod.

I guess that’s all the confirmation he needed, because the next moment he pulled me into a kiss and walked me back until I was pushed up against the wall of the elevator. His hands firmly held my waist as I brought mine to his neck and we kissed roughly until the elevator dinged at the third floor. 

He pulled back and we smiled at each other before he grabbed my hand to pull me along. He frantically tried to recall our room number, leaving me in hysterical giggles as he fished the room key out of his pocket to check the number. 

We finally got all sorted out and practically ran to the room hand in hand. It took him three tries to get the key to work, muttering obscenities under his breath until the door finally opened. 

I pushed him inside and he turned to grab my waist and sit me on top of the dresser before throwing the drugstore bag onto the bed.

His hands slid up my legs under my dress as we kissed urgently. I wasn’t sure if this would be our only night together and I didn’t want to waste any of it. I shifted forward to press as closely to him as possible as I ran my hands up his shirt to start unbuttoning it. After I’d haphazardly managed a few, he pulled back to yank it over his head and his undershirt along with it. 

I tugged him back towards me and started working my mouth down his neck and chest. He was so beautiful, I wanted to kiss every inch of him. 

He pushed up my dress a bit to access the skin of my hips and waist. What underwear was I wearing!? When was the last time I’d shaved???

He seemed to have noticed my shift in thought, because he pulled back to ask, “Is this okay? Are we going too fast?”

“No! No, not at all,” I said, shaking my head. “I mean, yes it’s okay. No, it’s not too fast.”

He looked at me with narrowed eyes, as if trying to decipher what was wrong. 

I gave a quiet groan. “I’m just trying to remember the last time I shaved or anything, because I wasn’t exactly expecting to be in this position and-“

He gave a surprised laugh before kissing me softly. “I can not even begin to tell you how much I do not care about that.”

“Okay,” I said quietly.

We resumed kissing, but this time a little slower. He brought his hands to my neck and gently tilted my face up to his. We lazily made out as I ran my hands along his chest and back.

At some point his hands drifted beneath my dress once more before he asked, “May I take it off?”

I nodded and he gently pulled it over my head and tossed it onto the chair. He looked me over with raised eyebrows before meeting my gaze. “I can’t believe you’re real,” he said with a shake of his head. 

“I could say the same to you,” I told him. He made a face that suggested he didn’t believe me, so I hopped off the dresser and pushed him back onto the bed. I crawled over him as a smile played on his face. 

“Oh, this is definitely a dream,” he said before I silenced him with a kiss.

His hands enthusiastically explored my body as we made out. Things got more heated and I started grinding against him almost involuntarily. His hands went to my hips as he pushed me down on him harder. It drew sounds out of him that made my toes curl with delight.

I reached behind my back to unclasp my bra, but he was quicker, moving my hands out of the way so that he could do it. He slipped it down my arms and tossed it to the floor. 

I leaned back down and our kisses turned hot and opened mouthed as his hands moved up to my exposed chest. It wasn’t enough and I just felt so impatient. I needed more.

I pulled back to look at him. His hair was ruffled and his pupils were blown wide.

He looked utterly debauched. 

With a tone of embarrassing desperation, I asked “Can we please-“

“Yes,” he answered before I quickly shifted off him to start unbuckling his pants. He helped me pull them off before I slipped off my panties and he removed his boxers as well. 

I laid down on the bed beside him and suddenly felt nervous. The only person I’d had sex with was my high school boyfriend who became my college boyfriend who became my ex boyfriend after he slept with my roommate. We’d dated for almost a year before I felt comfortable having sex with him.

“Would you mind being on top?” I asked. At least for our first time (because hopefully we’d be doing this more times), I felt like I’d be less anxious if I let him take the lead. 

“Uh, yeah, sure. But, I should probably tell you…” he said in a tone that made me roll over to look at him. He looked at me nervously before finishing, “I’ve actually never done this before.”

“Ever?” I asked, trying not to sound, like, offensively surprised. 

“Never,” he confirmed. “So, I hope that’s okay with you.”

“Oh my god, of course that’s okay,” I told him quickly. “But, are you sure? That you want your first time to be with me? Here? Because, I don’t mind waiting if you just want to do other stuff tonight.”

“No, I… I’d really like to have sex with you,” he admitted. “I just wanted to manage your expectations ahead of time.”

“Trust me, I have zero expectations. I’ve only had sex with one person and I am by no means an expert, so… don’t worry about that,” I told him, running my hand through his hair. 

“Okay,” he said softly. He rolled over to grab the plastic bag from the store. Pulling out a box of Trojans he said, “I was feeling optimistic in Walgreens.”

“You had every right to,” I told him with a laugh. 

He fumbled with the sealed plastic on the box and finally got it open, retrieving a condom and rolling it on. He climbed over me and I told him, “I can get on top if you’d prefer.” The fact that he was a virgin made me feel significantly less nervous about it. 

“No, that’s okay,” he said, “Oh, do I need to do anything for you? Like, to get you ready?”

“No, I’m… quite ready,” I assured him. “You can see for yourself if you want.”

He reached one hand down between my legs and gently touched me for a few moments. As I gave a little sigh at the contact, he groaned as if he was the one being pleasured. He popped his fingers into his mouth to clean them off and closed his eyes, looking about as pleased as when he was eating his burger at Pop’s.

“Yeah, you’re ready,” he confirmed. 

I reached down to align us and looked up at him. “You don’t have to be nervous. It’s just me, love.”

He looked almost surprised before he said. “It’s about time we consummated this thing.”

He leaned down to kiss me as he slowly pushed his hips into mine. It had been years since I’d had sex, and it hurt more than I was expecting it to. 

“You okay?” he asked 

“Yeah, sorry,” I breathed. “It’s just been a while.” 

“Am I hurting you?” he asked. “You feel really tight.”

“No, I’m fine,” I assured him. “You can keep going.”

He slowly continued and finally bottomed out, giving me a minute to adjust to his size. 

“Okay, you can move,” I told him, bringing my hands to cling onto his neck and shoulder. 

He slowly started rocking his hips and I couldn’t help but moan in his ear. “Oh, god. That feels so good.”

“It really does,” he agreed. “You feel so good, baby.”

“I love it when you call me baby,” I confessed. 

“Yeah?” he asked, pulling back a bit to smile at me. 

“Yeah,” I said, pulling him back down to kiss the smug look off his face. 

He started picking up speed as I kissed down his neck and collarbone. I left a little mark low enough to be hidden under his shirt. 

“Baby,” he said roughly in my ear. “I can’t hold out any longer.”

“That’s okay,” I told him. “Come for me, darling.”

He caught my lips in a bruising kiss as he pounded harder and finished inside me. He stilled for a moment before pulling out and disposing of the condom. 

Instead of laying back down next to me, he crawled between my legs and asked, “Your turn?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said in surprise, letting my legs fall open.

He dove in and started working my clit with his tongue and there was no way it was his first time doing this. I couldn’t have told you what he was doing down there except that it felt otherworldly it was so good. 

“Please finger me,” I begged as I felt close to finishing and needed him inside me. 

He complied and I came embarrassingly hard. I grabbed his hand and pulled my hips away from him when I was finished and overly sensitive. 

He popped up with a delighted expression and a sopping wet face. 

“Come here,” I said, opening my arms in invitation.

He grabbed his discarded boxers to clean himself off before pulling me against him. We laid entwined as I basked in the afterglow of my amazing orgasm. 

Being in his arms just felt so perfectly right. He was like the missing piece that I’d been waiting for. I almost wanted to cry, I felt so happy. 

“Jug,” I said. “Thank you so much for letting me be your first.”

“Well, thank you for being my first,” he said, running his hand through my hair. “That was really amazing, Betty. Like, you have no idea.”

“No, I do. It was amazing for me, too,” I told him. “But, why me?” I asked in a small voice.

“I… I know this is crazy because I only just met you in person a few hours ago, but… I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I’ve never wanted to sleep with anyone else before,” he said. “I know that’s probably too much to say this early and-“

“It’s not,” I told him. “I feel the same way about you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, sounding surprised .

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been daydreaming about this, you know,” he said.

“Doing me?” I asked.

“Holding you,” he said.

“Mm… I hope it’s living up to your expectations,” I said.

“It’s better than I ever could have imagined,” he told me.

After a few moments of silence, I couldn’t help but ask, “So, you’ve done some stuff before, right? I mean, that wasn’t your first time going down on a girl?”

“No, I’ve never done that before,” he said.

“No,” I said, pulling back to look at him. “That was not your first time.”

“It was!” he said with a smile.

“Oh my god, Jughead,” I said, laying my head back on his chest. “Wow.”

He dropped a kiss on the top of my head. “Happy wife, happy life.”

I laughed against his chest. “I think you’re gonna have a pretty happy life.”

—

I woke up with dread in the pit of my stomach as his alarm went off.

He was leaving. 

We were going back to the phone thing. 

I’d loved it so much before, but now there’s no way it would be enough.

Had it been a mistake? My life was okay before. Maybe even good sometimes. But after having this taste of how amazing it could be, going back to normal was going to be awful. 

His alarm got louder and he didn’t show any signs of waking up. He had me pressed against him in a crushing embrace, so I wiggled my way out of his arms to reach over to the end table to turn the alarm off.

“Sweetheart,” I crooned in his ear as I ran my fingers through his hair. “It’s time to wake up.”

“What?” he asked groggily as he rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes.

“It’s time to get up, darling,” I said.

“Noooo,” he protested, pulling me back into his chest. “That’s a terrible idea.”

His morning voice was so sexy. 

“You have to go to work,” I reminded him. “You’re going to be late if you don’t leave now.”

“Don’t care,” he said into my hair. “You can’t make me go.”

“I wish you didn’t have to,” I told him. “But I’m not sure how your boss would feel about you going AWOL with a company car.”

“Come with me,” he said, pulling back a bit to look at me.

“I would if I could,” I told him. “But, I have work, too.”

“You’re no fun,” he said.

“I thought last night was pretty fun,” I responded. 

His face broke out into a sleepy grin. “It was,” he said before giving me a soft kiss.

We may never do this again, I suddenly thought. He could walk out that door and it may be the last I see of him. We’re not dating. He lives hours away. I have no real plans to move there except for theoretical daydreams. This may very well be it.

“What?” he asked, seeming to pick up on my mood.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, not wanting to seem awkwardly clingy.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, bringing a hand to my face. “You don’t regret last night, do you?”

“No,” I immediately responded, wanting to get that sad look off his face as quickly as possible. “Not at all. Last night was… amazing. I just really wish you didn’t have to go.”

“Well, then stop trying to get me to leave,” he whined with a smile. 

“It’s reality, Jughead. You have to go back and I have to stay here.” I said it because it was true and as soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my tears start to build.

Oh my god, it was horrifying. Who cries the morning after sleeping with someone?!

“Sorry, I need to use the bathroom,” I told him before he could respond, quickly peeling away and climbing out of bed. I washed my face in the sink and looked at myself in the mirror. You will not cry, I told my reflection. Get it together, sis.

When I came out, he was putting his clothes on, so I started collecting my own to do the same. The room was cold and dingy and I just felt like I could puke.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked tentatively as he buttoned up his shirt. 

“I’m fine,” I said, trying to make it sound genuine.

“Okay,” he said, not seeming convinced. 

Once we were dressed and I’d put my hair back up, he asked if I was ready to go. I nodded in response, not trusting myself to speak. He grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze before leading me into the hall. 

He checked out at the desk and he walked me to my car and it was all just awful. I wanted him to stay. I wanted to go with him. I certainly didn’t want us to be apart.

“So, I guess this is goodbye,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets.

“I suppose it is,” I agreed. 

“Well, maybe you can come visit soon?” he proposed. “You’re welcome to come down any time you want.”

“Okay,” I said with a nod. 

How would this work? We just see each other on some weekends? How long until that gets old?

“Okay… well, bye, Betts.” He looked uncertain. Like, he was unsure of what to make of my mood or maybe just our situation as a whole. He leaned in to softly kiss my cheek before looking at me for a long moment. 

As he turned to go back to his car, I said, “Wait, I…,” without any real idea what I wanted to tell him. 

I‘ll miss you? I love you? I’m sad because you’re leaving and I think you might be my soulmate? 

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Of course, baby,” he said with a sad smile before getting into his car.

The rest of the morning went by in a daze. I went home. I showered. Got dressed. Went to work. The same thing I did every other day. Except now it all felt wrong.

I didn’t hear from him for a while, which was to be expected since he was driving.

Some time mid-morning, I finally got a text from him that read: Hey. Just got to work. Hope your day is going well. 

I sighed, trying to think of a response, when a second text came through. Miss you. 

I miss you, too, I sent back. 

I tried to distract myself with some tasks that I’d been putting off. The next time I checked my phone, he’d sent a text that said, What’s your personal email?

I responded with my email, a little curious as to why he would need it. I then proceeded to refresh my gmail app an embarrassing number of times in the following hour or so. 

Finally, a new one popped up from hotdogjones11@yahoo.com. 

Who even uses Yahoo?? And he gave me a hard time about Internet Explorer.

Subject: Is this too presumptuous?  
Okay, I hope this doesn’t freak you out, but I’ve just spent my morning looking up job openings you may qualify for around here. I just really miss you and wish you were here. 

He then proceeded to link over a dozen job openings for entry level positions at various businesses and companies in the city. 

I smiled to myself before opening the first link.

—

“Well, hello,” I said, answering a FaceTime call (?!) from Jughead as I was getting ready for bed. “Not that I’m not delighted to see you, but I’m so curious as to how this miracle is transpiring.”

He looked like he was laying in bed and I would have given anything to be there beside him. 

“I went to the Sprint store and got an iPhone after work,” he said a little sheepishly. 

“A what?” I exclaimed. “I thought you were morally opposed to smart phones due to data collection and Big Brother and all that?”

“Yes, well… I wanted to see your face. So, here we are,” he said with a shrug. 

“Thanks,” I said quietly. God, he was so sweet I couldn’t handle it. “So, um… how was the rest of your day? Did your boss mind that you were late?”

“Oh, no. He didn’t care. How many times have I told you that he loves me? I’m always coming in early for stuff or staying late or doing things that aren’t technically part of my job. So, I can sort of get away with anything.”

I admired his confidence. How relaxed he seemed about everything. 

He was also so cute. I couldn’t believe I had sex with him. And he seemed to be really into me! Truly wild. 

“Well, that’s good,” I told him. “I um… I’m sorry if I was weird this morning, I just-“

“You don’t have to apologize, Betty,” he told me. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“No, I just didn’t want you to think that… I was just sad you were leaving, I guess.”

“Yeah, I get it. I was really sad, too,” he said, before clearing his throat. “So, uh… my sister is in town this weekend, but I was thinking maybe next weekend you could come down? Or I could come up? Either one works for me. I mean, if you want to.”

“Of course I want to,” I told him. “I feel bad having you come here since you can’t stay here. So, it’s probably best if I come down there.”

“Fine with me,” he said cheerfully. “So, how did-“

“Is it her?” I heard a female voice ask from his end.

Jughead snapped his head towards the sound looking annoyed.

“Oh, it so is!” she said before appearing next to him. The beautiful brunette shoved a disgruntled Jughead over to make room next to him on the bed.

“Oh my god, Jughead!” she exclaimed. “She’s a babe!”

His lips twitched, but he kept his expression decidedly disapproving. 

“Thanks?” I said, unsure of who this person even was. 

“Seriously, I’m impressed,” she said, turning to nod at him.

“Betty, this is Veronica, the girl Archie’s seeing,” he explained flatly. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Betty. We heard all about his beautiful wife on Archie’s birthday,” she said. 

“It seemed like that was a fun night,” I said a little teasingly at Jughead’s expense. 

Veronica laughed as Jughead rubbed his face. 

“It really was! Please tell me you’re coming to visit soon? We have to take you out with us! It is impossible to get Jughead to come along unless it’s a special occasion,” she said.

“Uh, yeah! We were actually just talking about me possibly coming down next weekend,” I told her. 

“Fantastic! I’ll be sure to have Archie stay at my place to give you guys some privacy,” she said with a dramatic wink.

“Alright, so that’s Veronica,” he said, obviously trying to nudge her off the bed. “Say bye to Betty, Veronica.”

“Bye, Betty! See you soon! I love you already!” she said as Jughead walked her to the door and closed it behind her. 

“I’m sorry about her,” he apologized unnecessarily.

“Why? I like her,” I told him.

A smile crossed his face. “Well, I guess that’s a good thing.”

“Is that a Dr. Strangelove poster I see?” I asked, since the camera was showing part of his wall. 

“You like Dr. Strangelove?” he asked, sounding surprised.

“Of course!” I told him. “It’s a classic!”

He settled back into bed with his arm thrown behind his head, looking positively adorable. “Betty Cooper, I swear I like you more every day.”

God, it was going to be a long two weeks.

—

“Why haven’t you left for work yet?” my mom asked, rushing down the stairs. “I spoke with your boss and he said your performance has been subpar and that your sales are quite low. Going in late would not be wise, Elizabeth.”

“What? Why would you talk to my boss about my job performance? This isn’t middle school! Is that even legal?” I asked indignantly over my oatmeal. 

“Oh, calm down. I ran into him at the fundraiser on Saturday,” she said, preparing her cup of coffee.

“It doesn’t matter, mom!” I exclaimed. “You can’t keep treating me like a child.”

“You’re the one acting like a child, Betty. You need to put some effort into things if you want to be successful. I feel like I am just dragging you through life at this point,” she said with a dramatic wave of her arm.

“Okay, so maybe stop. I don’t put effort into this stupid job because I don’t care about this stupid job because I never wanted this stupid job! Just let me make my own choices,” I said, standing up from the table. 

“So, get a job that you want, Elizabeth! I only told you to take this job because if not you’d be waitressing at that diner for the rest of your life,” she said, coming to stand across the table from me.

“Well, I’m sorry there aren’t better options for me here in Riverdale, mom,” I said. 

“So, get a job outside of Riverdale, Betty!” she exclaimed. “It’s about time you try going off on your own.”

“What?” I asked. “I thought you wanted me to stay here?”

“Why would I want you to stay here?” she asked. “What parent wants their adult child living at home forever? Go make a life for yourself, Betty!”

“I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone right now,” I said in shock. “When I was in college you did nothing but complain about how lonely you were living at home by yourself.”

“Of course I was! It’s just a part of life. Is that what you’ve been using as an excuse to stay here? You think you’re doing it for me?” she asked with a scoff. “You’re doing it for yourself, Elizabeth. You’ve always been afraid of taking risks.”

I stared at her in shock. 

What the hell was going on?

“That’s not…. You told me it would be the wisest financial decision to move in with you!” I reminded her.

“I didn’t mean indefinitely! Just until you got a decent job offer so you could start your career.” 

It was a lot to process. Was she totally gaslighting me? Or, was she right? 

Maybe a little of both, was the conclusion I landed on.

“I have a phone interview this morning,” I told her. “For a company in Brooklyn. That’s why I’m taking the morning off.”

“Oh, well why are we having this argument, then?” she asked, going back to her morning routine. “What’s the position?”

It was certainly not the reaction I’d been expecting. 

—

“I miss you,” he whispered. I could just barely make out his face on the screen in the low light of his bedroom. 

“I miss you, too,” I told him. “Just one more week.”

“Why does a week feel, like, painfully long right now?” he asked with a sad smile.

Because we love each other, my mind supplied.

It was Thursday and we’d talked every night that week. Whispering into the early hours of the morning. Talking about anything and everything. Not wanting to ever hang up. 

I loved him.

He loved me.

We hadn’t said it. But, I knew it. 

“Your sister gets in tomorrow morning,” I reminded him. “So you have that to look forward to.”

“I do,” he said with a sigh. “And I’m excited to see her. But, I still miss you. I’m not cut out for long distance marriages, apparently.”

“If I… if I theoretically did get a job in the city, would I be able to stay with you until I found an apartment?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, of course. I mean, then I could take you to different neighborhoods and you could get a feel for where you’d want to live without having to commit to something right away.”

“Okay,” I said.

I hadn’t told him about the interview that morning. Or the fact that I’d applied to any of the jobs he’d sent. Or that I found a bunch of other ones to apply to as well.

I guess I was just afraid I wouldn’t get any offers and wouldn’t that be embarrassing. 

I’d spent a lot of time thinking about that conversation with my mom. Like, why did I feel so obligated to stay here with her? What was so scary about moving on? 

I hated it here. I wanted to be there. So, why didn’t I just… go?

So in that moment, I made up my mind.

“When does your sister leave?” 

—

It was certainly the boldest thing I’d ever done, I thought as I watched the world go by through the train window.

I packed up my stuff and left. To move to a city where I had no job. To stay with a man who didn’t even know I was coming. 

Veronica was helping me. She’d followed me on Instagram, so I messaged her on Friday morning to tell her my plan. She immediately asked for my number to call me and spent twenty five minutes gushing about how much she loved me, and how much she loved me and Jughead together, and how she was definitely a matchmaker in a past life, so she was really living for this.

She sent me his address and said she’d keep Archie occupied for the night, so we’d have the place to ourselves. 

At the end of the day, I told Hiram that I quit effective immediately.

That felt great. 

On Saturday, I filled my two suitcases with clothes and other essentials, figuring I could get the rest of my stuff when I had a permanent place to live. 

On Sunday, I told my mom I was leaving that day and she didn’t even seem to care. 

It was bizarre.

She said she was proud that I was doing something for myself and that she’d send me anything I needed. She added that she’d be coming to visit soon to ensure that I was making good choices for myself and that sounded more like her. 

So, there I was. Riding the train and hoping I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my life.

I didn’t feel like I was. 

I got off at Penn Station and found a taxi, feeling too nervous to worry about managing my luggage on the subway. 

She dropped me off in front of his building and I punched in the code Veronica had given me. 

It didn’t work because it was the wrong building.

I schlepped my luggage across the street and found the right building and that time it did work. I found the tiny old elevator and rode it up to the seventh floor. 

I triple checked my messages from Veronica to make sure I went to the right room. 

I found his door.

My heart was in my throat and my stomach felt all weird and I put my bags down and shook my arms and tried to get rid of my nervous energy. 

I knocked, but there was no answer.

I waited a minute before knocking again, but a little louder. 

I heard him slide the chain before turning the lock and opening the door. 

He stared for a moment, looking me over in surprise. 

“Hi,” I said quietly. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked as a smile crept on his face.

“I don’t have a job,” I told him. “I’ve applied to a bunch and I had an interview on Thursday, but I haven’t heard back yet. But, I’m definitely going to start applying to waitressing jobs around here in the meantime. And, I’m going to pay you rent until I find my own place. I’m fine sleeping on the couch if you don’t want to share your bed.”

He continued to stare wordlessly. 

Shit.

“Or, I can go because maybe I totally misread the situation, and-“

He silenced me with a kiss, rushing forward to grab my face and slam his lips against mine. 

“Don’t go,” he breathed. “You can sleep in my bed and eat my food and take half my drawers and the whole closet. You can stay as long as you want.”

He pulled me into a right embrace and whispered so low I wasn’t sure if he meant for me to hear it. “You can stay forever.”


End file.
